In the cold, suffocating shadow of Saturn, Titan looms—a fortress moon, wreathed in silence, secrets, and the ever-watchful eye of the Imperium. Its blackened citadels rise from the barren landscape, a grim testament to the war that never ends. Here, in the heart of darkness, the Grey Knights—Malcador's chosen—are forged in blood and fire, each one a weapon honed to perfection against the insidious horrors of the Warp.

The air hums with the quiet thrum of ceaseless war preparations. Massive gunships come and go, laden with psychic warriors clad in the steel of their duty, ready to plunge into the hellish, formless void beyond the stars. There is no respite, no reprieve. Each victory is but a brief moment of silence before the next summoning, the next daemon incursion. The Grey Knights do not rest, for the war against Chaos is eternal. Every moment they linger is another step closer to damnation for the Imperium, and so they go—silent, unyielding, to face the endless nightmares that await them in the void.

In the Emperor’s name, they are humanity’s last line of defense, and in the abyss, they stand alone.